


The Whisky, The Liar, The Thief

by floralNINJAchan



Category: Thrilling Intent (Web Series)
Genre: Alcohol, Drinking, Fluff, In between canon events, Mild Language, song lyrics inspired
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-21
Updated: 2016-07-21
Packaged: 2018-07-25 22:47:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7550212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/floralNINJAchan/pseuds/floralNINJAchan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"He never made an honest buck, <br/>She only borrowed from the truth, <br/>They were the greatest match that hell had ever seen</p><p>But if you reap what you sew it doesn't matter where you go, <br/>The Whiskey, The Liar, The Thief!" -Patent Pending</p><p>Inspired by this wonderful and catchy song.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Whisky, The Liar, The Thief

**Author's Note:**

> I've been wanting to write something for TI for so long and I just knew it had to be something to do with Thog and Ashe.   
> If you know me, you'll know that I am the twinkie twin of fanfiction; fluff and filler with a cup of tea.  
> I didn't intend to make it as long as it is but you know what, they like their booze so I couldn't just make it a quick one-off scene of drinking.
> 
> Hope y'all enjoy!

Aesling was dead tired. She had traveled for so long and traveled so far to get to the country of Alaran. Her hair, having gotten a little overgrown and tangled from her journey overseas, was shabbily shaped around her shoulders. She was visibly tired but equally intrigued by her surroundings. It was her first time away from her now old home, Meathe… and possibly her permanent time away from the shitty island. There wasn’t any easy way to get back without getting swallowed whole by a sea monster. Good riddance, she thought as she shifted her pack on her shoulder. 

She ran away with most of her belongings, which wasn’t much at all. A pouch full of money and small jewels she had smuggled from her father and her short sword hung at her hip. Her knife was close to her under the leather padding around her waist. And with her small pack, she had a notebook, writing tool, and cartographer paper tucked away. That was pretty much it besides a few clean tunics and a comb.

The Alaran Empire was really…. Something. There wasn’t a word the young runaway could use to describe it. Not any ‘kind’ ones, anyways. It was a different kind of ‘bad’ than her old home from what she could tell. Skeevy looking people loomed around buildings, alleyways, and just about any place they found room to loom. The women were either very scantily clad in dress or wore business attire; both types giving off the essence of being able and willing to buy, sell, and destroy any man who crossed them. 

Maybe “interesting” was a good word for this place? Definitely “different” but that wasn’t a fair judgement. Aesling had left the only home she’d ever known. She expected and welcomed different! That was until a group of thugs circled her in front of one of the many taverns.

“Hey there,” one of them said slimily. He was obviously drunk. Although Aesling had never experienced the phenomena, she knew exactly what it looked like. “Wanna come with us, little darlin’? You look a little lost.”

Aesling just blinked in disbelief at the thug. Was she that obviously out of place? Where they mugging her or something?

“Uh,” the guardian began avoiding eye contact. “No thanks. I’m fine on my own-”

“Oh come on!” another thug, this one toothpickish in stature. He got dangerously close to her face. She could practically taste the booze he had been drinking. “Don’t be stingy! At least let us buy you a drink!” The other thugs around them chuckled and exchanged confident glanced.

Aesling was getting a little pissed off at this point. But, she considered using the drunk idiots to her advantage. “You know what,” she began while attempting her best half-assed smile. “I could go for a round or two… But I’m not very good with drinking. I tend to have a little too much…” The men chuckled even more so and ushered Aesling into to tavern they had seemingly exited from not too long ago.

It was a shabby, decrepit establishment that smelt like piss and B.O. Aesling did her best not to throw up from the smell and sounds of vomiting. Smoke polluted the limited air left in the tavern. The guardian could think of a few new words to describe this particular area of Alaran. None of them were kind. 

She was pushed towards the bar and placed on to one of the stools. The bartender, clearly familiar with her current companions, gave Aesling a worried look as though he wanted to help her escape. But not willing to miss out on making some more money off of the drunk bastards, welcomed them back. “Something light for the lady?” 

“I’d actually prefer something strong,” Aesling replied shifting in her seat. “Maybe a pint, perhaps?”

The bartender raised an eyebrow in disbelief and gave her a “are you serious?” expression. But, the slimy thug slammed down a few pieces of gold and order rounds for them all. The bartender was no longer concerned and poured their drinks. At first, Aesling just sipped her drink casually within the first hour. That didn’t seem to satisfy her new drinking-buddies so she ordered another and downed it in one go. Soon enough the whole bar was buying her booze, liquor, and spirits to try and get her drunk off her ass.

Two rounds became three.  
Three quickly became seven.  
Seven became twenty-nine.  
Math became useless after they reached round forty-five considering no one but the bartender and Aesling were left conscious. She was pretty sure a few of them were dead on the floor from alcohol poisoning. The bartender didn’t seem to care much seeing as he began to collect the bill by looting the bodies. 

“How are you not drunk?” he asked with tossing aside a worthless wooden nickel from toothpick’s pocket. 

“Like I told them, I’m not very good at drinking. I never seem to get drunk,” she laughed as she indulged in what was left of the tavern’s stoke. 

“Well you got off lucky this time, girl. If they hadn’t just taken you out for a drink they could have tried to mug you. Thugs tend to do that around here.” He pocketed a few wedding rings. “Or worse.”

“I can take care of myself just fine,” she said patting her short sword. “This thing’s not just for show. Unlike some small island girls, I can actually put my money were my mouth is.”

“Or rather their money and you drink it. I should kick you out for ‘ruining’ my business,” the bartender chuckled.

“Oh…,” Aesling looked down at her glass. She hadn’t realized at the time that maybe drinking all she could drink meant that there wouldn’t be any left over for the next day. 

“I only kid,” he said picking up on her glum expression. “Why don’t you freshen up in the back? You look like shit. And that’s saying something coming from someone who has to see these idiots day and night.”

Taking up on his offer, Aesling walked past the bar slightly embarrassed. In the back room was more booze, a basic kitchen, and a small chipped sink with a cracked mirror. Aesling cringed at her reflection. 

They must have been really drunk, she thought. I really do look like shit…

Using cold water (there was no hot), and no soap (none of that either), she washed the grim and sweat off her face. Getting a better look at her less than clear skin, and furrowed her brows. Taking out her knife, she started chopping off her scraggly locks chunks at a time. Soon it was shaped into an unmanageable ball of fluff. Seeing as she didn’t feel like being bald, Aesling settled for her new pom-pom poof. She ran her hands through her now in-shock hair and then whipped off her blade, placing it back in its hiding place.

The slamming of the front entrance door could be heard from the back. 

Peeking her head out she saw a man clearly stressed the hell out burying his face into the bar. Mumbling noises were muffled by the wood counter. She heard some words like “motherfucking adventures” and “gotta get another dragon corpse” or something around those lines. The bartender took what little booze he had remaining and placed it in front of the man.

“Karen getting your tax-goat, Thog?”

“Do NOT joke about the fucking tax-goats… and yes,” the thug called Thog replied. He tilted his head up from the bar, resting his chin on the splintery surface. Half-heartedly he grabbed the mug of alcohol and in one go chugged the sucker down. It didn’t seem to help his demeanor any. “If you could even believe it, I’m celebrating a promotion… Now I’m now in charge of a bunch of idiots. Yay.” He waggled his finger in circles as he stared down the empty mug. 

“That’s rough, buddy?” Clearly the barkeep didn’t know how to react to that.

Considering how uncomfortable the situation seemed to be, Aesling decided to try and sneak out. This attempt failed miserably seeing as she miss stepped and tripped over one of the unconscious patrons. Before she knew it she was looking up at the thug. There was just silence and a long awkward stare down between the two for what felt like an eternity. 

“You do all this?” he gestured to the entirety of the bar. All she could do was nod in replay. The thug smirked and pat the barstool next to his. “If you’re up for it, let me buy you a drink,” he smugly grinned, “if there’s any left.” With a shrug, she took the seat as the bartender kind of just gave up, placing a few bottles on the counter and disappearing into the back.

Uncorking the closest bottle to him, Thog starting chugging it down. Aesling didn’t know if that was “ok” to be doing but decided to join him anyway. For the next hour there was just drinking and small talk. After the fourth bottle Thog was smashed. Small talk turned to drunken rambling. 

“It’s all the damn same,” he slammed his fist on the bar. “They buy into this bullshit and then waste their time running around getting their asses kicked by…,” he snorted, “sheep.”

“What?” Aesling chuckled in disbelief.

“Oh yeah. Sheep. Cardboard ones too. It’s just. Sad.” 

“Considering how easy your customers seem to be ‘impressed’, it doesn’t sound like such an awful job.” She took another swig of her booze.

“Well, it would be if I wasn’t regional manager… Being in charge has a lot more ink drying and managing-ing to do.” He started mumbling about ‘the man’ and how much bullshit this is. Thog tried to reach for another bottle but Aesling gently pushed his hand away. 

“I think you’ve had enough, Thog.”

He glared at her, “How do you know my name?”

Her mouth formed into a line. She tried hard not talk down to him too much while explaining. It was a habit she picked up from talking to drunks. “Well, that’s what the bartender called you. And, you spoke in the third person about ten times calling yourself that.”

“Do I know your name?” his brow twisted and he began rubbing his temple.

“Well, I didn’t say it… But if you’re asking, it’s Aesling.”

“Too long.”

“What?”

He took out a shabby paper from his back pocket and a pen and scribbled down her name. Then proceeded to cross out most of the letters. “I’m gonna call you ‘Ashe’. That ok?”

“Um, sure,” she smiled slightly. It was the first time she’d ever been given a nickname. It felt… nice to not to be addressed so formally. 

“How about you try writing it out here?” Thog asked while pointing to the page. Ashe agreed and did her best to write it out. “Whoa,” the thug exclaimed. “Your handwriting is fucking terrible…”

“I’m a better cartographer,” she bashfully said. This peaked Thog’s interest and he suddenly sobered up. This opened up a conversation about things Ashe didn’t yet fully understand. His words went almost by too quickly for her to fully grasp the situation, but once he mentioned things like ‘money’, ‘place to stay’, and ‘a paid tab at an on-site tavern’ she was practically sold. Another piece of paper was placed on the bar and Thog pointed to multiple lines and Xs. Ashe initialed and signed what she could. Before the ink could even dry, the thug snatched up the contract, folded it, and put it in an inner pocket of his vest. Standing up abruptly, he told Ashe where to go and when to be there. 

He left without another word leaving the very confused girl alone in the tavern.

\---

“WELCOME BACK, AESLING!” Old Inny exclaimed as she dropped into her usual seat. 

It had been about a month and Ashe hated her job. For the first time in her life, she wished she could get drunk. But not on what she was served. The questionable bartender placed a mug of the ‘Old Inny Special’ in front of her. She really didn’t feel like drinking horse tranquilizer… But that was all they had.

Talking out her notebook, she drew out part of the new expansion Meadshire #7 was adding on later that week. Her map of the location had been getting close to becoming finalized until the higher-higher-ups decided to whore out for more attractions. Ashe didn’t mind too badly since she was getting more to do than feel ‘sorry’ for the adventurers she found herself constantly surrounded by. 

The door to the tavern swung open. It had been ages since this particular patron had come by. Thog, whom Ashe hadn’t really seen since her orientation day the morning after that night they first met, took the seat next to hers and popped open a flask.

“Not going to get a drink proper?” Ashe inquired, holding up her own mug.

“No thanks,” Thog took a swig from the flask. “Don’t feel like drinking paint thinner. I’m not that desperate.Yet.” 

Nervously, the cartographer placed down her drink and started sketching once again. “I’m guessing you didn’t just come here for small talk?” She doodled a faux tree next to the second jail.

“Yeah… so you know about the problems we’ve been having with the ‘thing’,” he began making sure to keep a hushed tone. A female adventurer seated behind them shook nervously as she waited for someone – anyone – to come join her. He did not want to scary her even more so than she already was. The idiotic, terrified ones were always the absolute worst kind of adventurer.

Aesling nodded in reply. She had heard about the problems with some kind of monster but didn’t look too much further into it. 

“Well, we hired a guy to deal with it and I want you to help him out. Show him around, use that sword of yours, etc.” 

“Do I get paid extra?” she asked looking him dead in the eyes.

With a sigh, the thug assured her that it was a separate deal and she would get paid for monster hunting bullshit. She wasn’t completely satisfied with the answer but agreed to the job none the less. Thog told her that the ‘guy’ would be coming soon and he got up to leave. Halfway to the door, he turned around as though he was going to say something, but then sighed deeply and left. 

A group of adventurers passed by outside the tavern as Thog shuffled past. He ran his fingers though his greasy hair and went for another swig of his booze. Sadly the flask was empty. Putting it back in his vest pocket, he marched along back to instillation’s main office. He put his hands in his pant pockets as he casually made his way onto a rickety walkway. 

Surprised, Thog pulled out an old crumpled up paper with crossed out letters and bottle stains. He smirked and shoved it into the pocket with the flask. He recalled what he could about that night a month ago. Then he frowned. 

He had the strange feeling things were going to go to shit real fast.

He had to go take a blond wizard to get an idiot out of jail. Then they’d be HER problem.

\---

The Nine Shrines yada-yada-yada was dead. Like always. The only people in the bar were the owners, and not even all of them. Gregor was outside practicing with his glaive, and Markus and Kyr were doing only God knows what somewhere in the forest. Luckily, no explosions could be heard near or far away so it was eerily quiet. Things were peaceful on the surface, but not all on the inside. 

Business wasn’t BOOMing like one of Kyr’s devices. The bottles behind the bar were collecting dust, while there were plenty of half opened ones ready to be drank. The foundation shifting caused creaking noises to echo in the silence. It gave the two remaining members of the company a chance to think. But the only thoughts that surfaced were worries and annoyances. 

Need to get that fixed, Thog thought about one of the newer holes in the floor. Pretty sure we’ve got raccoons down there… 

Gods only know what Ashe was worrying about. She just nursed her bottle of booze and rocked back and forth on the legs of her bar stool.

SNAP. CRASH. BAM.

Ashe was flat on her butt on the floor. She cradled her bottle so that it did not break. 

Thog let out a huge sigh. “I’ll get the hammer…” The thug reached behind the bar to pull out one of Kyr’s many misplaced tools. Ashe was now up on her feet and had walked outside to grab a few chunks of wood to help fix the stool. Taking another drink, she handed the pieces down to the company CEO so he could get to work. The middle manager was about to make a snarky comment about how they should just get next chairs, but she knew Thog’s response would just be a glare followed by, “We don’t have any fucking money.” So she stayed silent and watched him hammer nails into the broken chair leg.

Thog extended his hand up to Ashe again and did a “gimmie” motion without even looking up. Slightly confused, Ashe handed him the only other thing she had had in her hands; the bottle. He took it and chugged the rest of it down and handed her back the empty bottle. Ashe frowned and placed the bottle on the bar counter. 

Getting up from the floor, Thog patted the stool top to make sure quick fix didn’t come crumbling apart. Seeing as it was in some state of ‘stable’ shape he threw the hammer back behind the counter and grabbed another bottle while he was at it. 

For a moment, he loomed behind the counter just staring at the new bottle and a few dirty, dust-filled glasses neatly stacked next to random storage under the bar. He pulled out too of those glasses and whipped them down best he could with his vest. Gently placing them on the counter, he opened the bottle and poured two drinks; one for himself and one for Aesling. 

“Am I a shit boss?” he asked as he pushed one of the glasses to Ashe who sat back upon the newly fixed stool. She wasn’t expecting a question like this so she hesitated in answering. That was a mistake. He took her silence as an answer of its own and knocked back the drink. And then preceded to slam his forehead into the counter.

“Jesus Thog!” Ashe stood up from her seat in surprise. “You’re not that bad! If anything you’re better than-”

“Than what?” she could barely hear him mumble through the wood work. He looked up to reveal a bright red mark above his brows. “Better than those bastards back at Meadshire?”

“Well yes! And… well better than a whole lot of other Alarani CEOs.”

“That last one was an assumption therefor not a valid answer. If I was such a great boss then why are we so damn slow all the time? I’m sure there would be a cat in a tree or a stolen wiz-biz something-or-another that needs getting back. Or, you know, people just want to get drunk. But noooo,” he over exaggerated his ‘no’ a little too much. “I can blame this shit on the economy or on all of you fuckers but when it comes down to it the one in charge is always the one to blame. And after years of bitching, I’m the only one I can blame because I’m it. I’m the top guy and it fucking sucks.”

Ashe tried to move the bottle out of Thog’s reach but he grabbed her wrist and glared. 

“I think you’ve had enough, Thog,” she firmly stated.

His eyes softened and his grasp weakened enough for her to wiggle free. He ran his hands through his hair before burring his face in his palms. Thog thought back to when he had first heard Ashe say that. He’d just received his promotion. It was both a good and bad event in his life; more money, more power over certain things, but more idiots and responsibility that he still didn’t know if it all was worth it to get to where he was today. 

He was the CEO of a company with no clients, a bunch of outcasts and ‘natural disasters’ as employees, and nothing to do all day but fix his constantly decaying bar and drink. He was his own boss but was still stuck in the same loop he had always been. Deal with assholes, fix what he can, and drink it away until he has to start it all over again the next day. Thog had realized years ago that this wasn’t the healthiest way to live. He also had already accepted that. His own personal insanity, however, was finally getting to him. 

“…you’re right,” Thog admitted. He looked up at Ashe and nodded slightly. Staring off into the distance the wheels in his head began to grind. This ‘space cadet’ behavior made the woman in front of him worry. She waved her hand back and forth in front of his face with no response. 

“Um… Thog? You ok?” she gave him one of her most worried looks (at least in the past week). 

There was silence. Then a SLAM. Thog’s hands slammed on the counter as he vaulted over to the other side. Ashe was barely able to dodge as he rushed to the door. 

“Where the fuck are you going?!” she demanded an answer as the ex-thug threw open the door. He whipped his head around and looked her dead in the eyes.

“I’m going to get us a goddamn job!” He turned around and didn’t even bother shutting the door.

He ran off to get in contact with his old friend who was now in Onorhant. Then he stopped and remembered about the person they couldn’t fucking stand who was from Onorhant. His speed decreased and he cooled down a bit. His hand made its way to his vest pocket. Instead of taking out his flask like he usually would, he took out the worn down scrap of paper. Thog looked at it for a long moment and cracked a smile. 

The wind began picking up and the scrap fluttered out of his grasp. He watched as it sailed away until it was out of his sight. “Fuck,” he exhaled. His hands dug into his pockets and kicked up dirt as he went to go contact Morean. At least they could have some kind of job lined up if they didn’t get one soon. 

Uncharacteristic optimism found its way into Thog’s head. He thought about all the bullshit he’d been dealing with, the idiots he was currently dealing with, and the fact that at least he had a drinking buddy. He’d had a drinking buddy for a long while now. It felt nice. 

Though he wouldn’t admit that to anyone. And he didn’t plan on getting used to that nice feeling. He’d wake up from that feeling with a fucking hangover and reality pounding him into the ground. 

He reached out to Morean. Morean reached back. Thog walked back to the bar too late in the night for anyone to notice, and he sat in the little cubby, waiting. He didn’t move from that spot and just fell asleep with his head on the table.

He dreamed of money, of a waiting list of jobs lined up for the gang, the bar being filled with drunk happy people that didn’t look like they were going to rob the place blind in a heartbeat. There wasn’t any Markus or Kyr or even Gregor annoying the customers (they were probably out making him more money). It was just him and his success. And maybe Ashe. She was in the dream too but he couldn’t remember for how much of it or for how long. All he remembered though was that she was very muscular… He tried not to focus on that too much. That was an entire other can of worms that didn’t need to be touched upon. What happens in Wizard High School stays, dies, and gets burned to shit in Wizard High School.

Thog didn’t want to wake up. But he did. And then two weeks of waiting ate up his patience. Insanity was not going to be the norm anymore. They were going to have money and notoriety and everything Thog had dreamed about. Not everything maybe… Then again Ashe could stand to do some lifting. If she tried hard enough she could get to the point where she could hold a nickel between her rhomboids. 

“Thog?” he heard her voice. “When did you get back?”

“I never left…” And surprisingly, he thought to himself, neither have you.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank y'all so much for reading!
> 
> Constructive criticism is always welcome and if you want to see more of my work or make a request, feel free to subscribe here on AO3 or follow my facfic side blog on tumblr: rebathemermaid.
> 
> Your Floralist of Ninjas,  
> Reba The Mermaid


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